


What was Lost can Still be Found

by Fan_atic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragons, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_atic/pseuds/Fan_atic
Summary: Little Harrison Potter was born into the world with a scream. Yet it was not the wailing of a newborn that greeted him but the sheer terror of the midwife. For you see, little Harry was born with the words Avada Kadavra written in slicing silver down his spine.





	1. The Words

Little Harrison Potter was born into the world with a scream. Yet it was not the wailing of a newborn that greeted him but the sheer terror of the midwife. For you see, little Harry was born with the words Avada Kadavra written in slicing silver down his spine. His father and mother cried when they saw his words, fervently hoping that their son would never meet his soul mate.

Not even two years later, the midwife had been killed. Harry’s parents murdered, and those foreboding words had turned as dark as the soul of the man to utter them. However, of all this Harry knew nothing. His aunt and uncle had spitefully told him that it was a mark of his freakiness. While his parents were drunken fools who died in an automobile accident. For you see muggles did not have enough magic within them to form soul marks. 

So little Harry grew up hating those large bold black words written in a spiky hand adorning his spine. Grateful that they were easily hidden.

In his eleventh year everything changed for Harry. He was a wizard! He was famous. His parents were heroes! And on the first of September, a red headed boy changed his view of those spiky black words. 

Harry was content to sit alone in the train car. While nervous for what was to come, he didn’t know enough of this new world to truly comprehend the enormous undertaking of what awaited him. 

Ron Weasley was the first of many to enter his life. Ron burst into Harry’s carriage compartment, silver words adorning his smudged left hand, and started chatting about the wizarding world. Harry learned much in that first meeting.

Ron introduced him to the prejudices of the wizarding world, soul marks, and basic every day life. So Harry, content knowing that he was not alone saw his best friends get together with the words “oh your doing magic! Let's see it then” and “very well then”, and learned that it was considered improper to discuss the contents of one’s soul mark. Therefore, Harry lead a complicated life slaying basilisk’s and saving stones, but was blissfully ignorant of the significance of his dauntingly bold words until his fourth year Defense class. 

That year burdened with the Triwizarding Tournament, isolated from his friends, and scared with the knowledge of who uttered his words and their meaning. Harry spent many restless and lonely nights researching soul mates, afraid of what his connection with Voldemort meant? Would he become a monster? Was he already one? 

“Mr. Potter are you alright” Professor McGonagall asked, worried that her favorite student was crumbling under the pressure of the deadly Triwizarding Tournament. “You can always come to me with your problems you know that right?”

Harry gave a small smile. He knew he looked terrible. Ever since Professor Moody had demonstrated the Unforgivable curses in DADA three weeks ago he hadn't been sleeping well. Further exacerbated by his classmate’s frigid behaviors and skipped meals. It all haggard his already thin frame giving him an air of being deathly ill.

“Yes of course professor” he hesitated before adding “I know this is probably quite rude but… Have your words been spoken?”

The professor gave a large reminiscing smile “oh yes… It was many years ago and we have been happily married ever since.”

“Oh” Harry's voice had gone quite small “and… You never… doubted your words?”   
“Doubted? No I don't think anyone ever does. When I was your age my mother used to tell me stories about how her friends words turned out. Some were quite the tales”. McGonagall looked down at Harry arched her eyebrow and inquired “why are you worrying about this now? Shouldn't you be training for the Triwizarding Tournament?” 

“Have you met her?” Then with a kind face if she's one of the Beuxbaton girls it's quite all right, I'm sure she will learn English and you French in a jiffy.”

A look of horror crossed Harry's face “no it's definitely not one of the Beauxbaton students”.  
“If it's one of the Durmstrang girls it's quite all right too you know. I'm sure she's not as cold as she seems, it's just an image.”

Once again Harry venomously denied her suspicion of who it might be, yet curiously did not deny that he had met them. For now, Professor McGonagall was thinking it just might be a boy. Looking at Harry objectively Professor McGonagall noticed that if he were a bit healthier he would be quite the beautiful boy, effeminate with his large stunning emerald eyes, petit frame and long dark crazy hair. 

“Harry,” she started slowly “you do know that in the wizarding world we are quite open with sexuality” noticing his confusion she clarified “we accept gays. In fact, men can get pregnant.”! Harry intrigued but not liking the way the conversation was headed hurriedly ended it begging the need to study.

As the weeks passed by Professor McGonagall noticed that Harry’s health didn't seem to be improving at all, however she found herself swamped with work and before she realized it, the first task had arrived.


	2. The First Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'words' denote thoughts.  
> "words" spoken words.  
> italic words for book passages.

The day of the first task dawned bright and sunny. Harry had barely slept that night, and let out a groan as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘Why is it always me who has to do the bloody impossible. Ugh I don't want to battle a bloody dragon. I did not sign up for this. Maybe I should just run away.’ __

His mental rant continued as he dressed for the day. His tournament robes were a midnight black with a fitted bodice, slits up each leg for ease of movement and flowing sleeves.

He slapped his wand holster on, an odd gift from Professor Moody, gave up on his hair and hurried downstairs for breakfast.

The great hall was already humming with excitement. As he looked around the hall, fervent whispers could be heard giggling “doesn't Cedric look dashing” “I heard that they have to battle manticores!”  “Well I heard that they have to break into Gringotts” “ 5 gallon says the Beauxbaton champion faints”. Though the words were the usual gossip and the people the same fickle and spiteful friends, Harry knew he would never run away. It was the only place he had ever been happy. Somehow, the knowledge that he would rather be here and facing a dragon than be back at 4 Private Drive, the jail of his childhood, and summers and, the location of his tormentors, comforted him.

Harry ignored the students, gathered his breakfast and brooded. He knew he was prepared, all those late nights in the library studying soul bonds had oddly enough given him an excellent idea. Also if all else failed Professor Moody had hinted that using his broom could be an ideal plan B. 

Harry thought back to that specific night two weeks ago when he stumbled upon his dragon solution. It was in another dusty tome from the Restricted Section. 

The tome, Satisfying Souls: An Analysis of Soul Magicks, was written in the 16th century and showed it. Dust coated the pages and it had that distinct musty smell that all good old books had. Despite its air of neglect, it had aura of a book seeped in old Magick and lore. Of all the books Harry had read, this one tome had been the most comprehensive, while also being readable. Its introduction….

_Soul bonds have been around since before Atlantis. The Ancient magick to create soul bonds are within all magic creatures. Only those stripped of their powers, and their descendants are left to survive, and never life. For creatures and beings of magick cannot live without their other half. They can only survive._

_The power of soul magick does not show up as written words in all beings and creatures as it does in wizards, centaurs, and vampires. Some like merpeople, phoenixes, and veela find their soul mate through a soul song. While other creatures such as thestrals, dragons, and sea serpents form bonds with their children at conception. Mates for those creatures are just means to reproduce._

Further chapters explained why no wizard lived past its first century without a soulmate, the belief that soul bonds were the purest form of magick known, and a brief history of the utter destruction of anyone who tried to interfere in another’s soul bond. Apparently to interfere in any negative way is to forfeit your soul, and the magicks of all your descendants.

 Throughout the whole tome not once was the concept of an unrequited soul bond mentioned. Not one mention of a pair not loving each other, ignoring each other, or trying to break apart throughout the 400-page tome. Only that entire wars had ended peacefully the moment soul bonded kings met, and that Atlantis sunk when the king tried to separate a soul bonded pair.

 His situation was frustratingly enough unique, and being told that without Voldemort he would not truly live made Harry want to scream and chuck something. Something he had already relished in however not without its consequences. Madam Pince had been less than impressed when he tried to burn Satisfying Souls and he had been evicted from the library for a week. It had sucked, sneaking into the library hidden under his invisibility cloak.

 ‘Ugh… now I’m sounding like Hermione’ thought Harry as he let his head drop with a thunk. ‘All I want to do is get done with this farce of a spectacle just leave.’

* * *

5 hours later

* * *

 

            Harry paced the tent. Hermione had just dropped by to wish him luck. He knew he was prepared… well as prepared as he would ever be, and at least he was not the only one looking like they might hurl or faint. Fleur, dressed in an impractical powder blue vest and skirt combo paced and murmured spells fervently under her breath.  While Cedric looked constipated, his yellow and black Hogwarts crested shirt washing out his already pale complexion. Victor the most composed of all the champions had his usual surly look, and wore blood red robes similar to Harry’s.

            Not even ten minutes later, though it seemed like it had been hours, Bagman entered with his usual boyish and exuberant air.

             “Well”, Bagman gushed and rocked on his feet “ Time to fill you in! The first task is to test your courage in the face of unknown danger! Now in this back” he said holding up and shaking a small silk bag that looked quite charred in locations. “There is a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too.. ah, yes… your task is to collect the golden egg!”

             “Ladies first” he said offering the bag to Fleur. Fleur nervously rummaged around the bag before drawing out a tiny perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. The dragon shook its head and let out a tiny huff. Drawing the champions attention to the little number two hanging around its neck. The ceremony proceeded as Krum pulled out a Chinese Fireball. It’s number three had been slightly singed and the model dragon seemed to be lunging for Krum’s finger.           

Next Cedric pulled out a blueish-grey Swedish Short-Snout with the number one tied around its neck.

             Harry swallowed nervously, stepped forward and reached into the bag, only to let out an undignified high pitched yelp when the model Hungarian Horntail bit his finger. Sucking on the wound, Harry glowered at the smug dragon with its slightly chewed on number four.

             “Well, there you are!” said Bagman. “You have each pulled out the dragon you will face.”

             Harry ignored Bagman as he made as if to talk to the youngest champion and sat down observing the miniature of his foe. ‘Well’ he thought ‘let’s just hope this works or I am bloody screwed’.

           He ignored everyone as Cedric nervously wiped his hand on his pants and strode out of the tent and into the arena. The tent had clearly been silenced because as the flaps opened the roar of the crowed could be heard for a moment. Fifteen minutes later Fleur was escorted out leaving Harry and Krum alone.

             Twenty minutes later Krum stalked into the arena leaving Harry to wallow in his worries alone.

            ‘What if the book was wrong? What if I never see Sirius or Remus again? Oh merlin death by dragon… What a terrible way to die.’

            He could imagine the tomb stone already.

**Here lies the Boy-who-lives-to-die-by-dragon**

            Harry let out an undignified snort, and changed the direction of his thoughts lest people think he had gone batty.

 Finally, Harry was called to enter the arena. He saw everything in front of him as though it was a vivid dream. Thousands of faces stared down at him, people jeering, and badges that flashed Potter Stinks! And there was the Horntail, majestically crouched at the other end of the arena, a two story tall reptile, with yellow piercing eyes, wings half furled and already the full width of the arena, and the spiked tail thrashing in agitation. Her nest just barely visible with its ten eggs and the one golden egg glinting when the sun hit it.

 Satisfying Souls had very little information on the soul bond between a dragon and their child. However, from his intensive research he knew the bond was already there and strong at conception. The baby egg’s souls were feeding off of the mother dragons at this age.  Theoretically all Harry had to do was draw the mother dragon’s attention to the false egg. Dragons are notoriously territorial and protective of their eggs so anything foreign should be seen as a potential threat. Hopefully.

 Crouched behind a large bolder having just come face to face with the angry mother’s hot tail, Harry wasn't very confident in his plan.

 “This has to work” he muttered to himself, before peering around the bolder and casting two charms he learned in his first year. A color changing charm, and an alarm charm. The charm caused the golden egg to light up and change colors from red, green, bright neon yellow, black, and then cycled through the rainbow. While the alarm charm made the golden egg vibrate and chirp. See the benefit of these charms was that unlike the higher powered charms and jinxes, they left no color streak and were virtually untraceable until they occurred. Therefore not drawing the mothers attention to the one who cast the charm but to the object charmed… ie the false egg.

 The crowd had gotten quite loud many questions of “what is he doing?” “Do you think he will get eaten” could be heard from Harry's hidden position.

 The dragon noticed the egg when it lit up in a bright neon green and vibrated against her underbelly scales, as predicted she forcibly removed the egg, throwing it clear out of the arena.

 The crowd went eerily silent.

 Harry, not noticing the lack of noise from the crowed and relieved that his plan had worked ran out the stadium door through the tent to pick up the golden egg.

When he came back with the egg for his results, Harry found the judges debating heavily. None of them knew why his plan worked and Karkaroff claimed that two first year spell didn't warrant any points at all. While Dumbledore protested saying that it was intelligent and ingenious. Dumbledore addressed Harry and inquired “ Harry, my boy, what exactly did you do?” with a twinkle in his eye.

“Harry went on to explain his research into soul magic and the ties to a mother dragon and her eggs summarizing it with a shrug and “it was just basic logic, mother dragons can recognize their own egg, they always have clean nests, by drawing attention to a flaw in a dragons nest no matter the shape the false egg will be ejected. That's why they have so much issues incubation eggs when mother dragons die”. He ended in a matter of fact tone, not noticing Dumbledore paling when he mentioned researching soul magicks.

In the end Harry was awarded the lowest number of points, a measly 10, the judges claimed that as pointed out in the beginning the first task was to test courage in the face of unknown danger not logic.


	3. The Third Task

The third task was this afternoon, and Harry could not wait for it to be done with. The whole tournament had been terrible. Before the first task everyone hated him, calling him a cheat and wearing _Potter Stinks_ badges. Then after the first task the school stopped shunning him, except for the Hufflepuff’s who were pissed he ‘stole’ Cedric’s spotlight, and now clamored for his time and attention. It seemed like everyday students came up to him for reenactments of the first task, or later after the second task “Where did you get the Gillyweed? I want to explore the lake! It was bloody awesome!”. His friends were just as bad, since the second task Ron had become especially insufferable. He had apologized back in November however, since the second task he kept on puffing out his chest and giving more and more fanciful tales and reenactments of his ‘part’ in the Black Lake.

            At first his tales started small, merely him helping save Gabrielle Delacour or how he pulled her onto the dock, but now hearing his tale you would have thought he had single handedly battled the giant squid, a monstrous flesh eating serpent, with a rock. Harry had even heard him boast that “ Harry? Psh the thing about Harry is that he seems so powerful but he’s weak. He couldn’t save the girl without help! And you know the Gillyweed. That was my idea!”

            ‘As if’ Harry thought ‘The idiot can barely open a book let alone read one! And please! He was passed out the whole bloody time. I had to drag him to the surface and he weighs a bloody ton!’

            Even Hermione, despite never completely abandoning him, had started pestering him constantly. Unlike Ron she was perceptive enough to know that he was hiding something big from them, and in her annoyance constantly belittled the research he had done for both the first and second task. Telling him that “the restricted section is restricted for a reason” or condescendingly stating that “I’ve never heard of that! That cannot possibly be true.” Or his personal favorite “You just got lucky”.

Honestly, Satisfying Souls was probably the only reason he was alive right now. The old tome had helped him in the first task, and then again gave him the clue with its chapter about merpeople.

            _One of the more elaborate traditions regarding Soul Bonds belongs to the mer culture. For Merpeople soulmates are born on the same day within an hour or two of each other. The longest time difference being recorded to be 10 hours. Without bonding to their soulmate, merpeople never fully develop into adults, and if they do not bond before twenty years of age they lose the will to live. Therefore, Merpeople spend the first ten years learning their soul song, which allows them to recognize their soulmate. Merperson songs, though sounding like a banshee’s wailing above ground, is a heartbreakingly beautiful lullaby beneath the waves. It is said that listening too long can break the hearts of wizards, and cause the souls of witches to weep. After their tenth year of their lives mermen will swim the oceans and seas constantly singing. While merwomen will find their fishing grounds and not move more than a nautical mile until the two meet._

            He only worried that the lifesaving tome would not be help for the maze that was to come. Soul bonds are not very useful when not interacting with creatures, or knowing what was to come. The task was in just a few hours and Harry was a worried wreak. Moody had mentioned that someone had most likely entered his name into the tournament to kill him, and now that the last task was here… well let’s just say his odds were not looking good.

            “Harry!” Hermione nagged “you need to eat something” she said pointedly looking at his half eaten piece of plane toast.

            Just as he was about to retort Professor McGonagall stopped by. “Mr. Potter, your family is waiting for you in the antechamber.” Harry looked up at her perplexed, and then paled the Dursley's… here ‘oh Merlin’. “Hurry up now, they are waiting,” McGonagall stated as she started guiding him to the side room.

            Harry nervously swallowed, wiped his clammy hands on his champion robes and entered through the door. Cedric and his parents were just inside the door, Mr. Diggory looking immensely proud and patting his son on the back. Victor Krum was over in a corner, conversing rapidly and with more expression than Harry had ever seen to what must be his parents. On the other side of the room, Fleur jabbered away in rapid French. Her little sister, Gabrielle, gave Harry an enthusiastic wave.

            Finally, Harry’s gaze settled on Mrs. Weasley, Remus, and Padfoot. “Oh thank Merlin, I thought for a moment - the Dursleys ” a look of pure relief crossing his face.

            Padfoot chose that moment to jump, tackle Harry and start slobbering all over his face. “Urgh… Padf’ shove off… your too heavy” Sirius gave Harry an affronted look.

            Mrs. Weasley sniffed down at them, Harry had always had the impression that she didn’t approve of Sirius and his childish ways.

            “How are your classes going dear?” she said, clearly trying to get his attention away from Padfood. “ I hope this dreadful tournament hasn’t been interfering with your studying!”

            “Well” Harry scuffed his feet “It’s helped an awful lot with defense, but…” he grimaced his other classes had mostly fallen by the wayside. “ Hmm yes I imagine it’s been hard. Well why don’t you show us around a bit. It will be good to see what has changed and what hasn’t.

Harry grabbed Sirius’s leash and started the trek towards Gryffindor tower, glad for the reprieve from his nervous thoughts about school and potentially fatal upcoming task.

*

“Witches and Wizards, those who would like to attend the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament, I ask you to please make your way down to the Quidditch field” boomed Headmaster Dumbledore’s voice over the magical loudspeakers. “Will the champions please make their way to the tent next to the stadium.”

Remus fell into step beside Harry. “Feeling alright cub?”

“m’ okay” said Harry. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept on running over every hex and spell he had been practicing in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge that he could remember them made him feel better.

Harry peeled away from Remus after a hug and walked into the arena, now unrecognizable from the Quidditch field it once was. A twenty -foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in the middle; the entrance to the dark and creepy maze.

As the stands began to fill; the air was full of excited voices and rumbling feet, the noise doing little to cover the pounding of Harry’s heart. His mouth suddenly dry, Harry barely heard Bagman’s speech about letting off red sparks if in trouble.

“Witches and Wizards, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you of how the points currently stand! In first place with eighty-five points - The Hogwards Champion Mr. Cedric Diggory!” Bagman paused for the cheers and applause erupting from the stands. “In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!” and again paused for applause. “and lastly but not least tied for third with seventy points each Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy and Mr. Harry Potter!”

Harry once again let his thoughts wander as Cedric hurried forward into the maze. Five minutes later, though it only felt like seconds, the whistle to let Victor go sounded and Harry was roused from his thoughts just in time to hear his and Fleur’s whistle and race off into the maze.

They both immediately slowed down, the towering hedges cast darker shadows than physically possible ‘magic’ huffed Harry, and the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced while the rustling of the leaves and shuffling of mysterious creatures was amplified. Harry felt almost as though they had entered the deepest portion of the Forbidden Forest. Memories of his first year roused by the eerie similarities.

“Lumos” Harry startled, he had almost forgotten that Fleur was right next to him, he illuminated his wand and muttered “See you,”, before taking the right fork, away from Fleur.

Harry utilized the Point Me spell to guide his way further into the gloom. After twenty minutes of eerie empty paths Harry started to worry. The maze should be more dangerous than this, shouldn’t it be? Surely he should have met something by now?

Right…. Right….. Left… Harry kept on encountering dead ends.

Frustrated Harry yelled “Incendio” The hedges burst into flame and shriveled away.

Pleased Harry walked through the newly created hole, only to yell and start running when the Hedge let out tendrils that crept forward as if to attack.

Harry ran until a scream shattered the silence. “Fleur!” Harry yelled.

He blindly ran toward the source of the sound, incinerating any hedge in his way.

Then he saw it… it glided toward him, freezing the plants as its dark robe trailed over them. Harry let out a clouded breath, mustered all his joy and shouted out “Expecto Patronum” the dementor stumbled. “Oh, it must be a Boggart! Riddiculous!” the boggart vanished in a puff.

And then Harry saw Cedric’s yell out.

“What are you doing? What the hell d’you think you’re doing?” with Krum’s deeper voice monotonously replying “Crucio”.  

“Stupefy!” Harry yelled. Dropping Krum where he stood.

“Come on let’s go. We need to find Fleur something happened to her!”

“I’ll g-get her” Cedric stuttered “End this, I just want out of this bloody maze, they are bloody mad!” Cedric’s wild eyes scanned the surroundings. “Just get the cup. Please Harry. End this!”

“Yeah… okay I’ll bring the Cup back with me, we can win this together. ” Harry ran off. Two turns latter Harry saw the silver glow of the Triwizarding Cup. He ran up to the cup, grabbed it and just as he was about to turn and run back towards Cedric, was whisked away, the jarring spinning of a portkey turning his stomach.

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; just barely keeping his stomach from heaving he fell forward.

“Where am I” he had clearly left Hogwarts ground completely; he was standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible up on a hill quite far away. Squinting tensly through the darkness, harry watched a figure drawing nearer. “Hello,” he called out. “Who’s there?” Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak that dragged ominously on the ground behind him. And in the person’s arms looked like a baby, or a bundle of something.

Then, without warning, Harry’s scar exploaded with pain. His knees buckled, and an ominous but weak sounding chuckle was heard from the person. “Bind him” Harry let out a weak protest as he was magically bound and slammed against a tombstone.

Then the person laid down his burden, slipping off his robes and started to prepare a sort of ritual.

“You!” Harry gasped.

But Wormtail, did not reply, the ritual, unlike any Harry had read in Satisfying Souls, had the classic heptagon of a soul based ritual, but non Harry had read about included a cauldron large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The pain in Harry’s scar built until he blissfully slipped into unconsciousness.

Harry was roused, chanting and magick seeming the air around him.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!”

“Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master.”

Wormtail advanced torward Harry, a dagger raised in his attached hand.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.”

Struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, Harry felt something between the ropes and his forearm. Of course he thought ‘I’m an idiot’, Harry had forgotten that his wand was still strapped to its holster. Harry continued squirming, attempting to make the correct flexing motion that called forth his wand.

Sparks started emanating from the cauldron, pitch black steam billowed forth extinguishing them, and outlining a pale figure that started rising from the cauldron.

‘Almost there’ finally Harry grasped his wand, murmured a releasing charm and brandished his wand toward the rising figure.

“Reducto!” he shouted “You bloody idiot, what type of dark lord lets his prisoner keep his wand?” Voldemort turned, letting the spell rush by, his piercing red eyes seeking out Harry.  

Harry gasped, finally comprehending what adorned Voldemorts body. Scratched across that pale body were what looked like cracks, splitting Voldemort in seven pieces. Looking closer Harry saw that the cracks were in fact words, soul words, some the silver of those unspoken, but most the midnight black of those already voiced. The words were very short in high but stretched in length, each casting a shadow truly giving the impression of a white vase that had shattered in seven only to be pieced carelessly back together. The black words that pieced out his heart were those Harry vividly remembered writing in the diary in his second year.

**_My name is Harry Potter!_ **

Wrapped diagonally around Voldemort’s chest was the last set of black words, the words from his first year.

**_Voldemort! I’ll never join you!_ **

Of the rest Harry could only make out the silver crack across Voldemort’s neck, there in an odd squiggly silver font stretched the word ~open~.

“No, No!” Harry murmured, before backing into the tombstone he had just been bound to and dropping his wand in his horror.

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who has commented or given Kudo's! This is my first fanfic and the responses have been amazing!


	4. The Reveal

 

An excerpt from Satisfying Souls: An Analysis of Soul Magicks

_The Wizarding soul mark is unique in that Wizards are the only beings in which the soul mark changes color. It is believed that the change of color is due to the amount of magic available for the soul mark to draw upon. Before a Wizard meets their other half, the magic supplied to the mark is their own and the latent acceptance of magic from their other half. This is further supported by reports of marks being a darker silver when living in close proximity before the first meeting. Then when the first words are spoken, the words turn black. At this point in time a bond between the two half’s is formed. Through this bond core magic is shared thus supplying more magic to the mark and turning them a dark black color. Unsupported claims say that the darker the black the more power a soul mated pair share. Thirdly is white. This occurs only when a witch or wizard’s soul mate dies. At that time, no magic can be supplied from their other half so the color of the mark fades to white. Though the white color never lasts long. The majority of Witches and Wizards do not live past three years without their other half. The only cases of a witch or wizard surviving past ten years is documented to those with young children survive just until the children reach adulthood at age 17._

 

Previously…

Harry Gasped, finally comprehending what adorned Voldemort's body. Scratched across that pale body were what looked like cracks, splitting Voldemort in seven pieces. Looking closer Harry saw that the cracks were in fact words, soul words. Some the silver of those unspoken, but most the midnight black of those already voiced. The words were very short in height but stretched in length, each casting a shadow, truly giving the impression of a white vase that had shattered in seven only to be pieced carelessly back together. The black words that pieced out his heart were those Harry vividly remembered writing in the diary in his second year.

**My name is Harry Potter!**

Wrapped diagonally around Voldemort's chest was the other set of black words, the words from Harry’s first year.

**Voldemort! I’ll never join you!**

Of the rest Harry could only make out the silver crack across Voldemort’s neck, there in an odd squiggly silver font stretched the word ~open~.

“No, No!” Harry Murmured, before backing into the tombstone he had just been bound to and dropping his wand in horror.

“Oh yes!” mocked Voldemort, his blood red eyes glinting maliciously. “Seeing is believing now isn't it Potter” he said spitting Harry’s name as if it were a curse.

Voldemort looked away from Harry, and started examining his own body. He held up his hands, and flexed his fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He then turned his gaze to the rest of his pale and gaunt body. His fingers trailing over his soul marks, as if insuring he had not cracked as the marks suggested.

“Well that's new” Harry heard him murmur, as he watched Voldemort tracing the two midnight black soul marks. Those crimson cat like eyes bored into Harry. Gaze piercing, Harry could almost imagine that Voldemort was seeing his into soul.

“You’ve met one” he accused. “Which one!” Voldemort demanded. He stalked over to Harry, completely disregarding his nudity.

Harry scrabbled at those spider like hands as they lifted him up by the throat.

“W-what” Harry gasped out. ‘Merlin I hate being small’ he groused to himself. Harry’s vision started blacking out around the edges, his breaths coming in sharp gasps as his throat valiantly fought against its constricted airways.

Voldemort laughed a high, cold, merciless laugh.

“Look at you so naive, and weak” he spat. Harry still struggling for breath wished he could wipe away the spittle. “Not understanding just what you were talking to, you probably just assumed it was some random object. But which one did you meet? Which part of my soul? Soulmate?” Voldemort sneered at that word, as if it were a disease one caught, not the beautiful coming together of two souls destined to be together. Realizing that Harry had no idea of what he referred to, Voldemort sneered and turned towards the rat. 

“Your arm Wormtail” Voldemort demanded.

“Oh Master… thank you, Master….” Wormtail sniveled. He extended the bleeding stump. Voldemort let out another of his bone chilling laughs.

“The other arm, Wormtail.”

Voldemort turned around, his robes dissolving into being around him, swirling and catching the nonexistent breeze. He twirled his wand and Wormtail’s arm lifted up as if attached to a marionette string. There on Wormtail's left arm was something like a vivid pulsing tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth- the image that Harry vividly remembered from the sky at the Quidditch World Cup. Voldemort pressed one long, white, spindly finger into the brand and Harry’s world erupted in white hot pain. He fell to his knees gasping and grasping at his scar.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort wondered aloud “How many will be brave enough to return when they feel my brand? And how may will be foolish enough to stay away?”

The wind picked up, and the air was suddenly full of black mist and the swishing of hooded robes rapidly appearing. One by one the shrouded witches and wizards fell to their knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his conjured robes before backing away standing tall and unmoving.

“Welcome, Death Eater,” said Voldemort quietly, his voice carrying as even the wildlife seemed to hold their breath “Thirteen years since last we met, united under my mark. Yet you answer my call as whole and healthy as though it were yesterday.” Voldemort paced up the line of his followers. And as he passed, Harry saw each Death Eater stand taller.

“And yet while each of you slipped back among our enemies, pleading innocence, and playing house with your soulmate. I ask myself, how could they have believed I would not rise again? For I am no mere mortal, a little babe” there he turned and sneered at Harry “could never hurt me.”

“You are all a disappointment to me….”

One of the Death Eaters threw himself at the ground and shrieked “Master! Forgive me! Forgive us all! We will do anything for you!”  He hesitated before adding, “Let us kill the boy for you!”

“Ah, yes… my guest of honor!” Voldemort turned around with a smirk “Harry Potter! I’d almost forgotten you were here, standing on the bones of my father. I’d introduce you, but rumor has it you’re almost as famous as me these days.” Here Voldemort let out a little chuckle. “Let me introduce you anyways.”

“Harry” Voldemort said and then drawled in a fake loving voice “Dearest, the other half of my soul, let me introduce my Death Eaters. Followers, let me introduce...” he paused for dramatic effect and then with a devious smirk added “my soulmate.”

Harry could only look on horrified as his most guarded secret was revealed to the whole dark side. Looking at Voldemort's followers, he could tell he wasn’t the only one horrified, though for a different reason, about the reveal.

“Never, you bastard” Harry spat out, his voice raspy from his near asphyxiation earlier.

“Bastard, yes. But there's no need to lie to yourself dearest. You are my soulmate. Though I must say, growing up knowing that I had a Potter as a soulmate. Oh it was awful,” he voiced dramatically “the Potters were the epitome of the light side, weak, and… so Gryffindor.”

“But no matter. I didn’t need a soulmate. Love is just a weakness. So I set out to kill you.”

At that matter of fact statement, the Death Eaters all shifted uncomfortably. The mere idea of killing one's own soulmate was… preposterous.

“You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him - and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen… I could not touch the boy. His mother left traces of her sacrifice… old Magick. But no matter, I can touch him now. “Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and stroked it against Harry's cheek. It was cold, clammy with a texture similar to that of a snake; Harry resisted the urge to shiver.

“Now I will prove my immortal status by killing him now!”

He turned and faced Harry, and asked in a goading tone “Have you been taught how to duel, Soulmate?”

Not really, Harry thought terrified, the dueling club at Hogwarts in his second year had been a disaster. All he had learned was not to speak Parseltongue in front of others. The only spell he knew fit for a duel is _Expelliarmus_ and that was no counter to the unlockable Unforgivable curses.

“First we bow to each other, dearest” said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his crimson eyes fixed on Harry. “Come, don’t you want to bow to your soulmate? Bow Harry” he demanded, forcing Harry’s body to curve with a twirl of his wand.

“And now- we duel. _Crucio_ ”

The spell felt like a thousand white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin over and over, his head was surely going to burst with pain. And then it stopped. Harry trembled as he stood up on unsteady feet, the pain having been so bad he hadn’t realized he had fallen.

“That hurt, didn’t it Harry?”

“ I’ve felt worse” Harry bit out, thinking back to his second year in the chamber.

“Oh! Would you like to feel it again?” Harry scrambled out of the way as a second curse passed a mere hairs width away from his shoulder.

“Now now” Voldemort admonished “Let's not play games like children, we’re all adults here.”

Harry knew he was being played but Voldemort was right. He didn’t want to die kneeling. If he had to die, he was going to go down fighting like his father.

Harry crouching on the ground, yelled the first spell that came to mind...

_“Coloro Eritque Arcus”_

It was the color changing spell he had used during the first tournament. Had he not been fighting for his life, a neon green Voldemort would have been hilarious sight.

He used the distraction to stand up, and as fast as he could yelled “ _Expelliarmus!”_ Just in time for his spell to meet midair with Voldemort's Avada Kedavra!

The spells connected, sending out a shock wave that knocked all the Death Eaters off of their feet and heated both Voldemort and Harry’s twin wands to nearly unbearable levels. The shock wave formed into a shimmering golden dome around the soul mated pair, and from within each wand came complementary Phoenix songs. The unearthly, and beautiful melody filled the air, it seemed to call for something. And then Harry saw it. The song pulled from Voldemort's wand a shining ball of light.

“A soul” Harry breathed out, for it had reminded him of Sirius’s soul just before Harry had saved it from the dementors. Once the soul was free it whispered its thanks,

“Thank you for releasing me, my soul mate awaits” before disappearing in a flash. The phenomenon happened three more times before Harry realized what was to come.

“Mom, Dad!” Those two souls though exactly like the others in appearance seemed to resonate deep within him. The souls formed into the smoky shadowy figures of his parents, whispering reassurances.

“You must get back to the cup; it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand Harry?” James said.

“We love you, no matter who your soulmate is” his mother added before yelling “Now run!”

Harry wrenched his wand and dove for the Triwizarding cup. As his body was whisked away by a jerk behind his navel, Voldemort's scream of fury seemingly traveling through the portkey with Harry.

Harry’s feet slammed into the ground and as his knees buckled underneath him he heard the roar of a boisterous crowd.

Harry vaguely heard Bagman announce

"Witches and wizards I announce to you the Triwizarding champion - Harry Potter!"

With that announcement the hedges pulled away revealing the other three champions and the creatures of the maze. Victor was crumpled on the ground with Cedric sobbing and frantically checking an unconscious Fleur. While Madam Pomfrey went to the three champions, and the aurors rushed in to subdue the acromantula, boggart, and other traps before they rampaged the unsuspecting crowd.  

Harry was oblivious to all the hubbub around him as he was promptly swarmed by Remus his friends and strangers.

He couldn't believe how oblivious everyone seemed. How the bloody hell did no one know he had never left the maze to battle Voldemort!

"Stop!" He yelled at the top of his voice. His voice amplified accidentally by his magic.

"Voldemort back!" Harry ignored the flinches he received. " the cup... it was a portkey.” Harry stammered out, his vision had gone slightly woozy due to blood loss.

" He's just had a fright" blustered minister Fudge " let's just get him to the infirmary" .

"He's back!" Harry insisted.

"That is just preposterous" dismissed Fudge “he’s been dead for thirteen years!”

Enraged Harry tore off his shirt and whirled around brandishing his midnight black soul mark visible for all to see.

 

"Tell me I'm going crazy" he said sarcastically.

 


	5. The Trial

Harry’s world narrowed to just the feel of the cool air on his spine. A feeling he had rarely felt due to the words that resided there. He could almost feel the horrified stares of the spectators as they took in the enormity of those two etched black words. Avada Kedavra. 

As the adrenalin from the fight with Voldemort faded away Harry felt his head pound, his knees go weak, and watched the world fade into blackness… down… down… down.

*

“Shocking buisness… shocking…. who would have thought. Why the boy… his.. I never…” 

“Now Minister”  
“I just can’t believe it! His parents were heros!”

“Cornellius, I seem to recall that your fathers mark….”

“Yes well... that's not the same”

“It is our choices who show that show who we truly are”

“Well, well… we shall see, Dumbledore, we shall see… The boy has undoubtedly been corrupted.”

Harry lay listening with his eyes tightly shut. He felt very groggy. The words he was hearing seemed to be traveling very slowly from his ears to his brain, so that it was difficult to understand… his head felt like it was going to fall off; his limbs felt like lead… He wanted to lie here on this cloud forever….

“He’s waking up!” came a loud exclamation from above.

Harry’s felt like a ball of hair was attacking his face.

“Geroff h’mione” he groaned. He attempted to lift his hand and push her away, only to realize that it was grasped firmly in annothers hand. 

He shifted as much as possible to see Padfood his hackles raised and growling toward the Minister, while Remus grasped his hand as if it were a lifeline. 

Harry’s attention was dragged once again to the Minister as his voice rose.

“Preposterous. Come now Dumbledore. You are prepared to take his - er - mark as proof?”  
Dumbledore's voice darkened to a dangerous tone “Are you accusing that one of my students of faking a soulmark? Need I tell the Minister of Magic what a serious accusation that is.”

“See here…” the Minister blustered “you- you can’t seriously believe that.  
You-Know-Who - back? Come now…. Certainly you can not believe…” he ended in a desperate tone. His eyes imploring each and every person there to dispute his claim.

“Are you then prepared to take Harry to trial. It is after all the most serious of crimes that you are accusing him of!”

The Minister shifted from side to side and nervously wringing his hands. “Well, he is just a boy- and - er- well he has been having funny turns all over the place-”

“I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?” Dumbledore asked coolly.

\“You admit that he has been having these pains, then? Headaches? Hallucinations. He’s unstable” Fudge said gathering momentum “No need.. No need at all to bring an unstable boy in front of the Wizengamot.”

“Listen to me Cornelius,” said Dumbledore taking a step toward Fudge and radiating indefinable power, “I am the Chief Warlock, either you take the proof as it is, or you accuse Harry of a crime and give him a trial!”

“It seems to me that you are determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!” Fudge said, his face turning a purple that reminded Harry of Vernon when angered.

“You are blinded!” said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, “Call for a trial then! I will wait for the Wizengamot’s owl. Until then good day Minister!” 

Fudge hurried from the room, stumbling, as if Dumbledore's magic was pushing him onward.

“Harry, my boy” Dumbledore said, as if he had not threatened the Minister of Magic moments before “Lemon drop?”

Harry shook his head, how could Dumbledore be offering a lemon drop now of all moments. Everyone knew his darkest secret he thought hysterically.  
“Hmm” Dumbledore peered down at him and popped one into his mouth. “How are you my boy?”

Harry looked down at his lap and shrugged, his hands nervously twisting a corner of the bed sheet. 

“You know you can tell me anything” Dumbledore said in a chiding voice.

“Harry,” Hermione implored “Why didn’t you tell anyone.” Harry let out a self deprecating laugh. 

 

“Tell you how Hermione. After tea? Or, maybe while walking to class?” He addid in a higher pitched boyish voice “By the way Hermione my soulmate, you know the person who I am supposed to love and cherish forever, yea he wants to kill me and has already killed my parents.” Harry’s sarcastically added “I wonder how that would have gone.”

“Pfshhh” Fred, or George Harry could never tell them apart, snorted. His twin elbowed him in the side. Fred covered his mouth and looked at his twin and then Harry wide eyed before the three boys started giggling uncontrollably.

“Mental” said Ron weakly “They’ve gone mental.”

Harry’s uncontrollable laughing turned into sobs when Remus pulled him into his lap and started rubbing his back. 

“You’re mom used to start laughing at the worst times too” said Sirius having transformed back after the Minister left. Remus glared at and elbowed the insensitive animagus.

“Shut up Padfoot” Remus said before turning to Dumbledore “Is a trial the best of ideas? What if they convict Harry? The Minister will do everything to discredit him.”

Harry could hear the amusement in Dumbledore's voice “Oh he will try! But he won’t succeed. Cornellius will find that their are very… strict laws when soul marks are brought into question. Ancient Magick from... Merlin governs…”

Harry’s hearing grew fuzzy as his exhaustion and the peaceful rubbing of Remus’s hand on his back lulled him into a deep sleep. 

*

Harry awoke with a gasp. He had been having nightmares more often than not this past month. It seemed like everyone was enjoying the spring weather except for him. His friends had interrogated him about his mark but realizing his reticent had let it be. Well for the time being. Harry could see that Hermione was biting her tongue in an attempt to let him have his space, it was only a matter of time before she broke. Harry wiped the sweat away from his forehead before realizing with a groan. Today was his trial.  
He trudged downstairs to where Mrs. Weasley was cooking breakfast. 

“It’ll all be over soon,” Mr. Weasley said bracingly. “In a few hours time everyone will know the truth.”

Harry wasn’t so sure about that. He had no idea of what to expect from the trial. He had asked countless questions but everyone responded vaguely. Molly often said “Don’t you worry. The adults will handle it” or Mr. Weasley would say “Nothing to worry about, just a standard trial.” 

While Harry avoided bringing it up around Sirius or Remus. The first time he had mentioned anything Sirius had gone reflective of his own lack of trial while Remus looked guilty about not pushing for his fellow Marauder. 

The only good part of the past month was not returning to the Dursleys. Apparently not preparing for the trial at Sirius’s house was better than being unprepared at the Dursleys. No one had even asked him what had happened in the graveyard!

Sometime Harry just didn’t understand adults.

Before Harry knew it, he was told to dress in his bottle green Yule Ball dress robes, and promptly pushed out of the door.

Harry followed obediently after Mr. Weasley as he led him to a phonebox, down the lift into the Ministry’s atrium, and down to the courtroom. 

Harry entered his court chamber and gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon room was ornate yet dreary. The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Yet the pillars were ornately decorated with witches and wizards fighting creatures and beings. Benches packed full of reporters and spectators rose on either side of him. Ahead arranged in rows of throne like chairs were many shadowy figures all wearing the plum purple robes of the Wizengamot, with elaborate silver worked W’s on the breast pocket of their robes. 

Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms and legs of which were covered in chains. Mr. Weasley gently pushed him toward the foreboding chair with a reassuring smile before heading to join the crowd of people on the side benches. 

As Harry sat down, the chains gave small quiver as if to bind him before settling down.  
Harry once again drew his attention to the Wizengamot members as a loud ringing announced the Minister of Magic Fudge entering before seating himself at the most elaborate of throne like seats in the front middle row. 

“Very well,” said Fudge. “The accused being present, let us begin!” 

Harry’s attention was brought toward an old wizard who looked like cobwebs were just about to grow about him, as he started to speak “Disciplinary hearing of the 12th of June. Calling the case of the Magicks of England versus Potter. Are both defendants ready?”

A short toad like woman on Harry’s left dressed all in pink stood up and said “Hem, hem, Ready for the Magicks of England.”

Just as she had finished, the doors to the courtroom burst open and in walked  
Dumbledore stating “Ready for the defense.”

Harry’s attention was once again brought to the short toad like woman.  
“Hemm hem Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot: Mr. Potter has been charged with the most serious crime of forging a soulmark” she paused as if for dramatic effect “On the 3rd of May, Mr. Potter bared his forged soul mark in front of the Triwizarding Tournament’s spectators. The mark shown was recorded to be the words Avada Kedavra located along the spinal column, and in black. Furthermore, we will prove that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not Mr. Potter’s soulmate” 

“Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot:” started Dumbledore “Mr. Potter’s mark is in fact genuine, and Mr. Potter is willing to drink the verum anima marcam potion to prove so.” A gasp went through the courtroom. Dumbledore raised his voice to be heard over the muttering “In addition Mr. Potter would like to raise complaints against the Wizengamot.” Using his best ‘I’m disappointed in you look’ Dumbledore continued “Never before has the Wizengamot initiated a soulmate dispute. It has always been one half of the pair being the accuser. This is unprecedented. I would like to further bring the Wizengamot’s attention to the 16th century law praesidio anima mea where it clearly states that anyone” here Dumbledore leveled his most frightening glare “anyone who was found to be interfering in a soul mated pair is to be given to the dementors or the veil for immediate execution. Therefore I would like to remind the Wizengamot that if Mr. Potter is found guilty today, but later proven innocent, you will all be subjected to having broken that law.” Harry risked a look at Minister Fudge. He looked moments away from either fainting of yelling his head off. 

“Hem hem, Mr. Dumbledore are you threatening the Wizengamot!” The lady in pink asked in a fake shocked voice.

“Merely stating a fact Delores.” Dumbledore said genially while slipping a lemon drop out of his robes and into his mouth. 

“Very well then, at this time we would like to call Potion Master Slughorn to administer the verum anima marcam” said the old man from before.

Harry nervously looked at the draught in the hands of an enormously fat, bald, old man.  
“Very nice to meet you Mr. Potter, not the best of times but... well your mother was a favorite student of mine! Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught!” 

“Hem hem…” The pink toad gave Slughorn an impatient look.

“Right… Right… well just stick out your tongue…”

Harry felt seven ice cold drops touch his tongue before seeming to evaporate. He looked inquiringly up at the Potion Master, then when nothing happened a few seconds later started asking “What’s supposed to….” 

Harry startled. Ice cold hands seemed to be tracing every inch of his body, they searched through his hair, down his stomach, tickled his sides until tracing up his back where they stayed and steadily warmed up. 

“Mr. Potter if I may, I will just remove your robe, stand up and turn around” said Dumbledore as if it were a normal question to ask.

Dumbledore did not wait for an answer before with a twirl of his wand Harry found his chest exposed to the chilly air of the dungeon. He slowly as if in a daze turned around to show to the Wizengamot and spectators, that each letter in his mark blazed with a black light.

Harry could see out of the corner of his eye the flashes of a photographer taking a picture.

“Let the Wizengamot note that the Soul Mark in question is showing a true light” Dumbledore stated before continuing “Let it further be noted that if any sort of false mark be present Mr. Potter would be dying in agony before you” Harry startled at that. Wait what! Dying! No one said anything about dying! “Finally let it be noted that the light in question is the black of a soul that has already met its other half. Not the white of another half having died nor the silver of an uncompleted soul pair.”  
Silence permeated the courtroom.

“Hem hem… “ 

“Delores?”

“What of Mr. Potters false claims regarding the identity of his soulmate”

“Do you truly believe that Mr. Potter survived hearing those words directed towards him twice?” Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“He has done it before. Hasn’t he” she sneered.

“Very well then. Mr. Potter will submit his memory of his first meeting with his soul mated pair” 

“Wait I’m going to do what!” Harry exclaimed. 

The pink toad scoffed “as if he remembers, he was just a baby!”

“Hush Harry. And Yes Delores. But Mr. Potter did not speak the first time he encountered his other half. I’m talking about the incident that happened a month ago.”  
Fudge interrupted “That incident was found to be the fantasy of a delusional boy, Dumbledore!” Dumbledore went to answer when Harry shocked the whole court room.

“That wasn’t when I spoke his words Headmaster” interrupted Harry.

“Excuse me my boy but what did you say, I’m getting old I’m afraid.”

“That wasn’t when I spoke his words Headmaster” Harry repeated himself. 

“I met him, well sort of twice” he added with a confused shrug. Silence met Harry’s odd words.

“Twice?” added the Headmaster faintly.

“Yes, Twice, and apparently I’m going to meet him for the first time five more times.”

Silence and a thousand pairs of eyes greeted Harry’s proclamation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't find anything on how English Trial's are run so I modeled it very loosely after an American Mock Trial.  
> Hope everyone likes it and reviews!  
> Also Happy Bastille Day!


	6. The End

**Chapter 6**

“Hem Hem, I’m sure I must have misunderstood you, Mr. Potter” the pink toad tittered “But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that” she let out another girlish giggle “you’ve meet You-Know-Who two times already, for the first time.” She peered at him as though expecting a response.

 

As Dumbledore seemed to have not recovered from his state of shock Harry decided to respond in his most polite tone “I don’t think you have asked a question Madam.”

 

Her glare was quite similar to that of an angry ugly kitten. “How can one meet their soulmate for the first time more than once?” She bit out angrily.

 

Harry rubbed the back of his neck “I’m not sure” he mumbled. Harry internally fumed. Had any of the adults bothered to answer his questions about the trial they could have avoided all of this!

 

“Voldemort’s” the entire courtroom seemed to flinch “Soulmark looked… wrong. It was -er - cracked across his skin. You know how when you fail at the _reparo_ charm on a vase for transfiguration and McGonagall gives you that look cause she can still see the black traces of where the cracks used to be” Harry looked up. The whole courtroom seemed to be staring at him in horrified aww. Like they couldn’t decide if all this was an odd dream or if he truly was delusional.

Harry flushed. “What about that -er- memory thing you mentioned. Headmaster?”

“Of course” Dumbledore snapped out of his trance “Of course my boy.”

“Minister, I’m sure a pensive could be brought out.”

“He’s delusional!” Fudge exclaimed. “Soul marks are not cracks! And one does not have multiple its… preposterous” he flustered.

 

The old cobwebbed man from before approached Harry.

“If you would just think about your first meeting with your soulmate” He asked Harry.

“Which one” Harry asked slightly hysterically.

“Uhh” the man did not seem to know how to respond.

“The most recent one please Mr. Potter” Dumbledore injected, never quite looking straight into Harry’s eyes.

 

Harry closed his eyes and though back to that horrifying experience; he felt something hard poke his head before the curious feeling of knowledge in the form of slimed seemed to leak from his head. It left him feeling vaguely empty headed and violated.

 

Harry shivered, before looking up. Everyone’s attention was now fixed on the pensive projection on the wall behind him. Harry nervously wringed his hands, and distracted himself by counted the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot.

‘One… two… three….’

“Bone of the..”

‘FOUR… five… six

“Flesh… given”

‘ **Seven** … eight….

“… you… resurrect… foe”

‘Eight…. Nine… ten… eleven……..’

“Reducto!”

‘Twenty…. Twenty-one…. Twenty-two…..’

“…my soulmate.” The crowd gasped. Harry lost count.

‘Thirty….’

“you bastard”

‘FOURTY…..’

By the time Harry had reached two thousand and seven, the spectators and the Wizengamot had gasped three times, four witches and two wizards had fainted, and one witch had started sobbing uncontrollably.

 

Other than the sobs of the witch, the whole courtroom was silent as they absorbed what they had just seen.

 

“Pr-preposterous” stuttered the Minister. “He must have faked the memory… he must have…” Fudge trailed off imploringly.

 

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and saw for the first time an old man, instead of an oddly dressed eccentric one.

 

 “This… is… a lie….” Said the toad faced women, “He is not out there!”

 

“I didn’t even know it was possible to view memories like this! How would I have faked it!!” Harry exclaimed exasperatedly.

 

The court room was filled with angry exclamations of the Wizengamot.

“He’s a liar!” exclaimed one witch from high up on the benches.

“He’s delusional! Exclaimed another.

 

Soon Harry lost track of who was saying what, only hearing the occasional “Liar! Mad! Preposterous!” or more rarely “Why would he lie? He’s back! Don’t be an idiot!”

 

“ **Enough** ” Dumbledore’s voice echoed throughout the chamber, stopping people midsentence with its magic enforced command.

 

“This can all easily be clarified, if we acted like the adults we are” Dumbledore wearily rubbed his forehead.

“Horace, you wouldn’t have Veritaserum on you by any chance?”

Slughorn looked momentarily shocked at being addressed before puffing out with an “always.”

 

He approached Harry, smiled and asked him to stick out his tongue.

Harry looked at the bottle with trepidation. The previous potion hadn’t been the best of experiences. The three drops were warmer than expected. They quickly raced through his body warming his head up, and giving him a light floaty feeling.

 

From his haze he heard someone ask…

 

“What is your name?”

 

“Harrison James Potter” the answer seemed to be pulled straight from his head without any effort from his part.

 

“How old are you?” asked the disembodied voice

 

“14 years old and 346 days old”

 

“What was your father’s name?”

 

“James Fleamont Potter.”

 

“The potion has taken effect. Now if I may have the attention of the court.” Came the stern voice of the disembodied voice.

 

“Who is your soulmate?”

 

“Tom Marvolo Riddle”

“Aha! The boy was lying! He isn’t soul bonded to Voldemort he’s bonded to some riddle” exclaimed a voice from far away.

 

The disembodied voice continued on louder than before…

 

“What titles does your soulmate go by?”  


“Voldemort, the Heir of Slytherin The Dark Lord”

 

“Please administer the antidote Horace, we have gotten all we need”

 

The haze cleared from his mind only to leave a raging headache in its wake. As the haze further receded he realized that the pounding wasn’t only located in his head. Fudge was pounding a gravel as if his life depended on it. The rest of the court was up in arms. It was chaos. People were screaming, several had their wands out and raised.

 

“Order! Order in the court! I demand decorum!” Fudge’s voice finally pierced the crowd.

 

“If I may” interrupted Dumbledore as the crowd calmed “Voldemort” several witches shrieked “is back.”

 

“Kill the boy” exclaimed a wizard in the purple robes of the Wizengamot before continuing with “Kill the half to kill the whole.”

 

Harry blanched; he vaguely remembered that saying from Satisfying Souls. It was an ancient saying, and used to be a common punishment for criminals that the Aurors could not catch. However, from what Harry recalled, the particular law it referred to had been overturned when a nine-year-old girl was executed after her soulmate killed over a hundred muggles.

 

The man’s exclamation started the whole riot up again.

 

Some declaring “Kill the boy,” or “one life for thousands of lives.”

 

While others exclaimed “He’s only a boy.”

 

“Enough! Killing Harry will not solve our issues” Dumbledore declared, his voice carrying over and quieting the court room riot.

 

“Voldemort has taken steps towards immortality. I have long suspected that he has created…. Horcruxes” very few individuals in the crowd gasped. Harry looked at Dumbledore warily. He had looked so old when he uttered that odd word. Horcrux.

 

“Harry’s information has only given further proof, and I believe that Voldemort has created several, seven to be exact.” The few from before who had recognized the word had all gone deathly pale.

 

“What is a Horcrux, Dumbledore?”

 

A Wizard with his faced completely covered obscured by his robes hood, and his voice masked by some sort of charm answered before Dumbledore could.

 

“A Horcrux is a vessel, of any sort that holds half of an individual’s soul. It acts as a… tether of sorts keeping the other half of an individual’s soul on earth long enough for another body to be created. Which is what we saw in Mr. Potters memories. It was meant to be a replacement for a soul bond. To let Wizards, live as… individuals instead of as half of a whole. However, the study ended in the early 14th century. Even one Horcrux left the individual… less than sane. The test subjects did live past their soul bonded deaths however, the majority were… put down due to the…. Side effects.”  
 

“Yes… in effect that is correct” said Dumbledore warily regarding the head unspeakable.

 

“If you had these suspicions why did you not contact us Dumbledore? It is within our charter to… end… any and all who deal with Horcruxes and other unsavory soul magicks” without even seeing the Wizards, or Witches face, Harry could feel disappointment rolling off of the man in spades.

 

“We have, effective ways of dealing with these matters. It is after all a subject we study in-depth. Our love room has explored all aspects of the soul bond… even the negative ones”

 

“Well…” spluttered Dumbledore.

 

“Minister if I may, give the unspeakable twenty-four hours with Mr. Potter, and this whole dark lord nonsense will be cleared right up.”

 

Fudge was blindsided by the request. “But….” He blustered, before coming to the realization that anything but yes would be tantamount to political suicide. “Of course!”

 

“Mr. Potter will be going nowhere!” Harry heard Dumbledore exclaim as he was whisked out of the courtroom his head reeling.

 

“Sir… what exactly do you need me for?”

 

The dark man, head unspeakable Harry internally corrected himself, chuckled. “We will be using your soul bond to… in lamest terms trace the locations of your other half’s soul.”

“But… how”

 

“hmmm, well you see before we meet our other half, our marks are silver. Correct?”

 

“Yes because the mark draws latent magic from its other half.” Harry replied, recalling Satisfying Souls.

 

“Correct. We will in effect be tracing that latent magic back to its origin, which in this case are the Horcruxes.”

 

“Sir” Harry inquired in a small voice “What about me? Will I… live?”

 

The head unspeakable turned toward Harry. I have a son, just a few years your senior. I promise you Harry, I will do nothing to you I would not do to him.  

 

“Now come, we have wasted enough time as is.” Harry followed the swishing black robes down into the depths of the Ministry. Past a long corridor, into a room where the doors rotated around. Until…

 

“Welcome to the love room. If you could take a seat on that chair”

 

Harry gasped in aww as he entered the chamber. It was a large stone chamber with benches all around. In the middle was a garden with a raised hill and fountain. But before that, marring the beauty of the room was the most hideous pink monstrosity of a chair.

 

“Excuse the color… the magic doesn’t work without it so…” the head unspeakable shrugged. A rather odd gesture from the intimidating man.

Harry gingerly sat down on the chair. It was rather uncomfortable everywhere except for where it touched his soul mark. There, the chairs magic seemed to cuddle and cushion his spine.

 

“Now just hold still…”

 

Harry saw a mass of Unspeakable’s all dressed in black robes walk in before the world turned black.

 

And he saw no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who reviewed!  
> The positive feedback on my first ever fanfiction has been amazing!!  
> I love the encouragement and will never say no to constructive criticism!  
> Thanks all  
> -Fan_atic


	7. Authors note

I am so sorry everyone... this work DOES have an epilogue. I just forgot to change the chapter count....  
please don't kill me...


	8. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bold words are Ms. Seeker talking.

**“Mr. Potter, it’s such an honor! Thank you for contacting me to conduct this interview.”**

“My pleasure Ms. Skeeter.”

**“Please, call me Greta, Ms. Skeeter is my Aunt Rita.”  
** “Harry then” Harry said with a roguish smile.

**“Well then let’s get down to business. It will be five years next month since your trial.”**

“That is correct.” Harry said with a nod.

**“And what a change has happened since then. Sirius’s Blacks exoneration. A resurgence in the use and study of the old Magicks. In addition to both your and Voldemort’s disappearance from the public’s eye. To the public it seemed like we had started a war and ended one, all on the same day. So tell me Harry, a little bit of background to set the stage. Going into that courtroom what were you feeling? Did you know what your testimony would set in motion?”**

Harry scratched his neck nervously.  “To be honest I was nervous and annoyed. No one would tell me anything about the trial. No one had asked me about what had happened in the Graveyard. I didn’t even know that Dumbledore was going to be my lawyer.”

**“Really! So before the trial, no one knew about You-Know-Who’s soul mark.”  
** “Nobody”

**“And you didn’t know that Dumbledore was going to be your lawyer? You never discussed the case with him beforehand?”**

“Dumbledore was… avoiding me at that point in time. So… I was walking in blind.”

**“What about the Verum Anima Marcam potion?”** Skeeter asked consulting her notebook.

Harry got a pained look on his face “I was, still am, immensely angry about that. You see I did some research afterwards and giving the Verum Anima Marcam potion without giving informed consent can be considered an attempt at murder. I had no idea what the potion did, or the risk of dying involved with consuming that potion. Yes, everything turned out well, but…. I’m angry”

**“For good reason. Now, speculation has run rampant on this next issue. You mentioned, that you had met He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named twice, for the first time. When did these instances occur?”**

“I exchanged first words with the main portion of Voldemort’s soul in my first year. That year Voldemort was possessing my DADA professor Quirinus Quirrell.  Voldemort at that time was searching for the Philosopher’s stone, and after break in at Gringotts, he followed the stone to Hogwarts. Throughout the year he attempted to break through its protections, until he finally succeeded. I was always out of bounds back then” Harry grinned ruefully “so me and my best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, followed to protect the stone. One of the protections was a giant chess board that hurt Ron. Hermione and I proceeded, however the last protection was a magical flame which only one could proceed through. Hermione went back to help Ron, and I went forward to find Quirrell there. I was quite shocked when he unraveled his turban and revealed that he had Voldemort attached to the back of his head. And then I talked to him for the first time. My words were ‘Voldemort! I’ll never join you!’”

**“Quite an eventful first meeting. Did you know back then that he was your soulmate?”**

“I did not. In fact, I didn’t know until my fourth year.”

**“And when was your second meeting?”**

“I met Voldemort’s first Horcrux in my second year at Hogwarts. As you might remember, that year Hogwarts was having an issue where a basilisk was petrifying students. However, what was not revealed to the public was that a student had been possessed by one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, in the form of a diary. I picked up that diary by accident, and wrote ‘My name is Harry Potter’ which was one of Voldemort’s first words.”

**“Wow, you did have quite the eventful years at Hogwarts.”**

“Hahaha, you don’t even know the half of it”

**“…!”**

“Maybe in another interview, we still have a lot to cover.”

**“You-Know-Who had seven first words; Have you spoken them all?”**

“While collaborating with the Unspeakables, I encountered and helped destroy Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”

**“Could you tell us what they were and what your first words were in respect to each?”**

“Of course. Voldemort favored founder’s heirlooms for his Horcruxes, so there was the Slytherin’s locket, and my first word was ~open~.”

**“Excuse me?”**

“Yes that was parseltongue for ‘open’.”

“ **Oh! I was unaware that you could speak parseltongue.”…**

“Yes, it was a shared trait along our soul bond. Next was Ravenclaw’s Diadem where my words were. ‘Well, aren’t you rather girly looking’, Not my best choice of words but…. The next was Hufflepuff’s Cup and my words were ‘What does it do?’ Which apparently the response is nothing. It was just an ordinary chalice before becoming a Horcrux. Then there was the Gaunt Family Ring, and I said ‘What are those scratches?’ And lastly was Nigini Voldemort’s snake familiar and my words were ~Calm down, this won’t hurt at all~ which translates to ‘Calm down, this won’t hurt at all’.”

**“….? That only adds up to 6?”**

“Ah yes, the seventh Horcrux. I haven’t spoken its words yet.”

“But!”

Harry held up his hand to stop Greta. “There is no chance of him returning.” He said reassuringly. “I have spent the last five years insuring that.”

**“If it hasn’t been destroyed yet how can you insure he won’t return”** Greta inquired leaning towards Harry.

“Since the trial, I have spent every day learning Mindmagics, specifically Occlumency, from the Unspeakables. Two years ago I mastered them, and since then I have become the top expert, developing my own techniques, theories and advancements.”

**“But how does that prevent You-Know-Who from not returning?”**

“You see… the last Horcrux is…. Well me.”

Greta gasped and recoiled from Harry.

“When Voldemort tried to kill me he accidentally split his soul. That one seventh of a soul saw me, its soul mate as the safest vessel.”

**“But… how can the public be insured that you are not being possessed?”**

“That’s why I live and work I the Department of Mysteries. I routinely go through tests to determine if I am possessed, meanwhile I can further my study in the Mind room, while the Love room workers love to test my soul bond for its… unique characteristics.”

**“So why now? Why after all these years are you coming out from your seclusion and telling your story.”**  
Harry chuckled, “It wasn’t my choice to be honest.” He gave a rueful smile, “My…. Employer has been hounded with questions on what happened on the 12 th of June in 2000. He sent me here to… clear the air I suppose.”

**“Do you know when you will speak Voldemort’s last first words.”**

“My colleagues in the love room theorize that they will be my last words before my death.”

**“Rather morbid for someone’s soul mark….”**

“I suppose I’m rather used to it.”

**“Will the last Horcrux die with you?”**

“We believe so however just in case, a team of experts carry a portkey activated by my death to transport them to me in case they need to capture and destroy Voldemort’s soul.”

**“Will that be necessary**?” Greta asked worriedly.

“Most likely not. However, we prefer to be cautious.”

**“Well then, onto lighter topics. Will the public be seeing more of you?”**

“Most likely. I will be seen more often in the ministry, and perhaps shopping in Diagon Ally. I have missed the sun.”

**“Any lucky witches or Wizards catch your eye? Despite rumors of your death, you have been awarded Witch Weekly’s Bachelor of the year for five years in a row.”**

“Hardly” Harry grinned self-deprecatingly “I haven’t had the luck with love and can’t see myself chancing it.”

**“Well best of luck anyways It has been an honor to meet you.”**

“Thank you for listening.” Harry stood up, shook hands with the reporter, and said “Good day Ms. Skeeter.”

Harry tipped his wizarding Hat toward the reporter, exited the Daily Prophet building, and disappeared into the early afternoon crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!
> 
> I just wanted to thank everyone who wrote comments, the food of a new writer, left kudos, and who stuck with this to the end!  
> I also would like to apologize for the whole not last chapter situation, and for the late posting of this chapter. I broke my arm and typing my handwritten notes one handed has been so slow!
> 
> Thanks again!  
> And please please please comment! Feedback on my first fic will only help the next ones!  
> I'm either going to write a Sherlock HP crossover or one where Harry gets on GBBS. I haven't decided which yet!


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